


An Unmade Bed

by romanticalgirl



Category: Dawson's Creek
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-11
Updated: 2014-02-11
Packaged: 2018-01-11 23:16:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1179103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/romanticalgirl/pseuds/romanticalgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Originally posted 6/24/01</p>
    </blockquote>





	An Unmade Bed

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted 6/24/01

Pacey took a deep breath and sat down at the table, picking up the water glass and turning it over and over. He looked up as she approached him, smiling with his typical self-deprecating charm as she hesitated slightly.

“I won't bite, you know.”

She grinned and stood across the table from him, her arms crossed defiantly over her chest. “I think we both know that's a lie.”

“Fine. I only bite when asked nicely.” He set the glass back on the table. “Hey.”

“Hey.”

“You're looking good.”

“Right. I know exactly what I look like in this ridiculous outfit.”

“You look stunning.” He leaned to the side for a better view, appraising her long legs. “Although I think your skirt could be shorter if you pulled the waistband up to your neck.” He squinted and tilted his head. “Or not.”

“The uniform's required, you pervert.” She grinned widely. “Is it completely wrong that I'm so happy to see you?”

“Most likely.” He smiled. “But no more wrong as how happy I am that you're happy. Or something like that.”

“What brings you here?”

“Strangely enough, food.”

“Right.” She pulled a menu from her apron pocket and set it in front of him. “You know what you want, or do you need some time?”

“I'll take a Coke for now.”

“Be right back.”

He watched her walk away, the low whistle of appreciation not loud enough for her to hear. He forced his eyes to the menu before she returned.

“Figure out what you want?”

“Yeah.” He looked at her longer than necessary before handing the menu back to her. “I'll take the turkey club.”

“Chips or fries?”

“Chips.” She nodded and turned to leave, stopping as his hand circled her wrist. “What time are you off?”

“Not until seven.”

“Can you take a break?” She paused and he raised an eyebrow. “I had to scour all of Boston for you, not to mention bribe Bessie. Can you take a break?”

She bit her lower lip in thought, nodding slightly. “Give me a few.”

He released her and she hurried toward the kitchen. Sighing heavily, he picked up his soda and took a healthy swig of the sweet liquid.

She returned a short while later carrying a tray. Sliding his food in front of him, she set the tray on the opposite side of the table and sank into the chair.

“You're not eating?”

“Here?” She asked, playfully horrified. “You must be kidding.”

“Mmm-hmmm.” Pacey picked up a triangular section of his sandwich and took a bite. “You're just violently opposed to succulent turkey, cool lettuce, ripe tomatoes and crisp bacon?”

“You forgot the fresh baked sourdough,” she reminded him. “Did I mention that you look good? Different, but good.”

“Being on a boat agreed with me. I lost weight working my ass off. I got a tan cruising the Caribbean and, well, the beard is just because I haven't had a chance to shave.” He rubbed his bristled chin self-consciously. “But the quick glimpse I caught of myself in the window assured me that I don't look too much like a serial killer.”

“No. Not too much.”

He watched her gaze and sighed, holding his sandwich out to her. “Here.”

“No, I…”

“Take a bite, Potter. The drool is getting deep enough to swim in.”

She smiled, doing as he asked. He watched her, refusing to look away as she blushed. “What?” She asked thickly.

“You've got…” He pointed then reached out and wiped a dab of mayonnaise from the corner of her mouth. She turned her head and used the tip of her tongue to lick it from his finger.

“Thanks.”

“No problem.” He cleared his throat and shoved the rest of the triangle in his mouth. Joey's hand snaked across the table and stole several potato chips. “I'll buy you a meal.”

“No. I mean, not this one. Unless…” she blushed. “I'm not hungry.”

“Right.” He watched her eat two more chips. “So, can I feed you? Tonight?”

“Like a date?”

He ignored her frightened tone. “Like dinner.”

“Why?”

He sighed and nodded. “Reasonable question.”

“Do you have a reasonable answer?”

“Well, I don't know about reasonable, but I do have an answer.”

“One you care to share?”

“Tonight.”

“So, to find out why I should have dinner with you, I have to have dinner with you?”

“Something like that.” Pacey grinned and took another bite of his sandwich. “So, what do you say?”

Joey looked at him silently before reaching for his Coke and finishing it off. “It's against my better judgment.”

“But you can't resist me?”

She cocked an eyebrow, effectively dismissing his comment. “I resisted you for sixteen years.”

“Only because you didn't know any better.” He picked up his glass and dropped ice into his mouth. “So? Will you?”

“Pick me up at seven-thirty.”

“I thought you were done at seven.”

“You think I'm going out with you in this?” She got up, the bottom of her skirt brushing the top of the table. “I'd rather not have to carry this tray around to ward off the rest of the perverts.”

“The rest of the perverts? Does that mean you have no intention of warding me off?”

She tapped the tray gently on the top of his head. “Don't push your luck.”

 

~**~  
He pushed open the door and leaned against it. “Wow. You almost look better in that.”

She looked down at her faded jeans and emerald sweater. “Yeah?”

“Almost.” He winked at her and pushed the door all the way open. “Ready to go?”

“You mean you're not going to ask me to use my employee discount here?”

“Nah. I'm being classy tonight. I thought we'd hit the Taco Bell down the street. They've got over 50 items for less than a buck.”

“Well, nothing like a well-balanced diet of meat from a tube.”

“Hey, they've got lettuce. That's healthy.”

“Lettuce. From a bag. That's not natural. You do know that, right?”

He stopped beside a dark blue truck, unlocking and opening the door for her. “Climb in.”

“Is this yours?”

“No. I'm stealing random vehicles for fun. Climb in.”

She set her foot on the step, her body close to his. She lifted her hand and cupped his bare chin. “You shaved.”

“Showered too.”

“I'm honored.”

“Yeah, well, don't read too much into it. I shower at least once a week, even if I'm not taking some hot chick out to dinner.”

She smiled to herself as he jogged around the truck and climbed in. “So, do I get the reason now or later?”

“Later.” He started the truck and pulled out into traffic, his fingers tapping on the steering wheel in time with the music.

“Pacey, this sounds frighteningly like country music.”

“Old country. George Jones,” he nodded as if he'd explained everything and sang along. “If your phone don't ring, it's me.” Joey raised one eyebrow and settled back in her seat. Pacey headed toward the water. “You hungry?”

“Starving.”

“Good.” He pulled into a parking lot and stopped the car, hopping out and walking around to help her out. “I hope seafood's okay.”

“Sure.” She walked beside him, her hand flexing, fighting the urge to reach out to him. Pacey opened the restaurant door, taking her hand as they walked inside. He smiled, not directing it at her. “Witter. Reservations for 8pm.”

“Right this way, sir.”

They followed the waiter, Pacey leaning toward Joey. “See? That's how you're supposed to act. Nice to the customers.”

“Reeeeally?”

“Yeah. That's the way to make the big tips.”

“I seem to recall getting a decent tip today.”

“That had more to do with your skirt than your service,” he assured her as she sat down. Pushing the chair under the table, he sat across from her ignoring Joey's look as he thanked the waiter for the menu.

“Tell me.”

“What?”

“Why I should have dinner with you.”

“You said it yourself. You're starving.”

“Pacey…”

“Because you and I are old friends. We're both hungry. I'm paying. And I know how hard it is for you to admit that you want to spend time with me.”

“You're such an ass.”

Pacey grinned. “I can take you home.”

“No. We're already here.” She set her menu down. “I'm willing to let you feed me, especially since I have every intention of ordering the most expensive meal they've got.”

“Go ahead.” She tilted her head and watched him, confused as the waiter reappeared to take their orders. After he left, Pacey wrapped his large hand around the stem of the wine glass. “So, tell me about your summer.”

“I spent it hanging out with Jen, Jack and Tobey. Drue occasionally.” She shrugged. “Dawson before he left.”

“How is Dawson?”

“Fine.”

“He likes USC?”

“Yeah, although I think he misses the east coast.”

“And you?”

“Jack and Jen got him a cell phone before he left. We talk about once a week.” She shrugged non-committally. “This is a little unnerving. Uncomfortable.”

“What is?”

“Talking to you about Dawson. I'm afraid anything I say might be misconstrued.”

“Whatever happened or happens between you and Dawson, friendship-wise or otherwise, has nothing to do with me anymore, Jo. You don't owe me anything.”

“I don't believe that.” She shook her head, remaining silent as the waiter set their drinks in front of them. “We may not be together anymore, but at least for me, there are still some residual feelings.”

The corner of Pacey's mouth lifted in a small smile. “Shall we place Dawson in the off-limits file?”

“It might be best if we want to have a nice evening.” She reached out, the tips of her fingers just brushing his. “And I'd like to have a nice evening.”

Pacey nodded, pulling back slightly and grinning. “So, how about this weather?”

~**~  
Pacey stood under the canopy and buried his face in his hand. “Fuck.”

“I can't believe you.”

“Well, I didn't do it on purpose.”

She bit her lip to keep from laughing at his woeful tone. “I would hope not, since only a complete and utter moron would lock his keys in the car on purpose.”

“Well, thanks for that vote of confidence.”

Still fighting laughter, Joey leaned against the wall of the restaurant. “You realize it's pouring down rain, right?”

“I do.”

“And…” The restaurant lights went off behind them.

“Yes.” Pacey said with an exaggerated nod. “I realize.” He stared out at the gray downpour. “How far away do you live?”

“About a half mile.”

“I don't suppose you're up for a midnight stroll?”

“In the rain?”

“Unless you want to wait until the deluge subsides.” He shrugged. “Up to you.”

She looked at the rain, highlighted against the streetlamps for a minute before laughing delightedly. “Nah. Let's go.”

She grabbed his hand and hurried into the rain, both of them drenched within seconds. They fell into a rhythm, walking side by side, hand in hand. “Boston suits you.”

Joey blushed at the compliment, looking away from him, her dark hair a plastered frame around her face. “After four hours of mindless chatter and banter, that's the best you can do?”

“It made you blush. You sure you want something more?”

She shook her head as he changed his grip on her hand, threading his fingers through hers. “Pace?”

“Yeah?”

“Are we okay?”

“We seem to be.” He looked at her, stopping abruptly. She stopped as well and met his gaze. “Why do you think we had dinner?”

She nodded. “Good.”

“Can we start walking now?” He squeezed her hand. “Because, and I don't know if you've notice, but I'm getting a little wet here.”

“Come on.” She tugged him toward a side street, heading off the main road.

“You're taking me to some deserted, rundown shack to slice me up into little pieces, aren't you?”

“No. I would never do that. Not when there are so many witnesses that can place us together. She pointed off to the left. “That's the main building. The dorms are just a little further.”

“You been here long?”

“Three weeks. I stayed with Jen, Jack and Grams for two weeks until the dorms were ready. I moved in this week.”

“Single? Or do you have the dreaded roommate?”

“Roommate, although she's not due until Monday.”

“So.” Pacey rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet as they reached the dorms. “It was good seeing you, Jo.”

“You…” she blushed. “You want to come in?”

“I shouldn't.”

“Where are you staying?”

“With a guy I worked with on the boat. He's got an apartment in town, and he told me I could crash there when I came through.”

“Through?”

“I'm heading to New York. I got accepted to a community college up there. They were decently impressed with my rants that I wrote for the school, and so I'm going to try my hand at writing, I think.”

“That's great.”

“Yeah. I've got…”

“Pacey?” She placed her fingers lightly over his lips. “It's after midnight. Your friend is probably out, asleep or really not interested in being interrupted. And all I want is a hot shower and a dry towel. Come inside.”

“Jo…”

“Any friend would do it. I've got a spare bed.”

He sighed, his breath warm on her fingertips. “Okay.” He followed her in, accepting the towel she offered him when they reached her room. He rubbed his hair dry as he surveyed the surroundings. “Good thing you spent your formative years sleeping on a couch.” He shook his head. “I hope you two like each other. A lot.”

“We'll probably never see each other. She dug through the dresser against the wall, grabbing a handful of clothes. “I'm gonna shower.”

“Sure.”

She watched as he shifted uncomfortably in his soaked jeans and sweater. “I've got…” She bit her lower lip. “Look in the bottom drawer. I'll be right back.”

As the door closed behind her, Pacey walked to the dresser, squatting down to look in the drawer she'd mentioned. Lying on top of a random assortment of junk was a pair of his boxers and two of his shirts. He laughed quietly, pulling the clothes out.

When Joey returned, he was sitting at her desk. “So, if I shower, am I going to find myself being gawked at by a bevy of college beauties?”

“I'll stand watch.”

“You don't have to.” He grinned. “So, where's the shower?”

“This way.”

He followed her, watching her hair curl delicately around her shoulders. She pushed open the door, letting him precede her into the bathroom. He set the clothes and towel on a lower bench and moved to the shower stall opening. “You planning to watch?”

“Shut the stall door, Pacey. I'll make sure no one bothers you.” She moved back toward the front of the bathroom, trying to ignore the sound of his clothes landing on the ground, the spray of the water and the sultry smell of steam. She closed her eyes, the vision of his naked body etched in her mind.

“Hey, Potter!”

Her eyes snapped open and she moved closer. “Yeah?”

“You're not going to mock me for smelling like…what is this shit? Sensual papaya, are you?”

“Of course I'll mock you, Pacey. It's what I do.”

The water shut off and he opened the stall door, poking his head out. “I think I smell pretty sexy.”

Joey tossed his towel at him. “Get dressed.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

She walked away as he began whistling softly, the sound of the towel moving over his skin loud in the quiet room. She shifted uncomfortably, stopping as she found herself staring at his reflection in the bank of mirrors.

Rapt fascination held her eyes to his body which was lean, slightly more muscled than he'd been, tanned. Her eyes traveled downward to the dark triangle of hair that flared over his lower stomaching, venturing even lower and shadowing his…

She ripped her eyes away, her skin hot, flushed. She forced herself to watch the tile floor, jumping when his hand landed gently on her shoulder. “I'm all clean.”

“Great.” She swallowed hard as they headed back to her room. Shutting the door behind them, she stretched out on her bed. Pacey draped his wet clothes over the back of a chair before lying on the empty bed.

Joey turned off the bedside light, sending the room into hazy darkness. “Goodnight.”

“Night, Jo.”

Her voice broke the silence after a few minutes. “Tell me about it?”

“What?”

“Your summer. The boat.”

His sigh filled the room. “You remember the way the ocean smells right before you fall asleep? The way it just washes over you?”

“Yeah.” Her voice echoed with longing. “The air's easier to breathe when you're not in Capeside.” He didn't respond and the silence lingered for a few more minutes. “Did you like the work?”

“Yeah. Always busy, even though we got free time. Saw the sights.”

“See anything good?”

He was quiet. “You mean did I see anyone?”

“No. Yes.” She blew out her breath, angry with herself. “Yes.”

“I went out a couple of times with the gang. But no. There hasn't been anyone else.”

“It's none of my business.”

“No. It's not.” His voice was soft, understanding. “But it's okay.”

“No. It's not. It's not fair. Because if you asked me the same question…when you tried to ask me the same question earlier, I got all upset. And I'm likely to get all indignant if you did it again.”

“Really?”

“Most likely.” She laughed in the darkness. “You could ask. Just to try me out.”

“Did you?”

“How dare you,” she giggled. “You broke up with me, you lousy bastard. You've got no right to ask.” She sat up, facing him, pulling her knees up to her chest.

“You were right.”

Joey rested her chin on her knee. “It's hard for me to be alone. I'm not…I wasn't very good at it. I've gotten better.”

“Practice does that.”

“Pacey?” Her voice broke. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too, Jo.”

“And…and nothing happened between me and Dawson. He knew it was time to go, and I did too, even if we were both a little reluctant to actually climb out the window into the real world. And there was no one else.” She chewed her lower lip as she watched him, unmoving in the night. “Tobey and I considered a torrid romance, since I haven't dated or been kissed by him, but we decided that he'd lose street cred in the being gay department. So we shelved it.”

“Well, I'm sure the poor guy was crushed.”

“Oh yeah. He wept bitter tears in Jack's arms. Well, I think he was weeping. It could have been something more sexual.”

Pacey grinned to himself as he watched her, the moonlight glistening over her smooth skin. “Has our Jack become a man yet?”

“You'd have to ask Jen.” Joey laughed. “I don't mean that the way it sounded.”

“I didn't figure you did.” He rolled onto his back, the sight of her almost painful. He stared up at the ceiling. “Well, night, Jo.”

“Right.” She lay back down on the bed. “Was the water as blue as in Florida?”

“Bluer.”

“And the native chicks? They hit on you?”

“All chicks hit on me, Joey.” He chuckled and turned his head, knowing she was looking at him. “Even the ones who hate me.”

She smiled and grabbed her pillow, tossing it over at him. He caught it in mid-air and pulled it down, snuggling around it. “Thanks, Potter.”

“Hey!”

“You gave it up, babe. Live with the consequences.” He closed his eyes, ignoring her further protests.

“Fine.” She turned over quickly, her back to him now. Pacey opened his eyes and watched her for a long time, listening as her breathing changed slowly, the soft pattern that she fell into just before she drifted off to sleep. Slipping off his bed, he laid the pillow behind her and got on the bed, his body spooned around hers.

“Far out in the ocean, where the water is as blue as the prettiest cornflower, and as clear as crystal, it is very, very deep; so deep, indeed, that no cable could fathom it: many church steeples, piled one upon another, would not reach from the ground beneath to the surface of the water above. There dwell the Sea King and his subjects. We must not imagine that there is nothing at the bottom of the sea but bare yellow sand. No, indeed; the most singular flowers and plants grow there; the leaves and stems of which are so pliant, that the slightest agitation of the water causes them to stir as if they had life. Fishes, both large and small, glide between the branches, as birds fly among the trees here upon land. In the deepest spot of all, stands the castle of the Sea King. Its walls are built of coral, and the long, gothic windows are of the clearest amber. The roof is formed of shells that open and close as the water flows over them. Their appearance is very beautiful, for in each lies a glittering pearl, which would be fit for the diadem of a queen.”

She sighed softly, the milky onset of tears clear in the sound. “The Sea King had been a widower for many years, and his aged mother kept house for him. She was a very wise woman, and exceedingly proud of her high birth; on that account she wore twelve oysters on her tail; while others, also of high rank, were only allowed to wear six. She was, however, deserving of very great praise, especially for her care of the little sea-princesses, her grand-daughters. They were six beautiful children; but the youngest was the prettiest of them all; her skin was as clear and delicate as a rose-leaf, and her eyes as blue as the deepest sea; but, like all the others, she had no feet, and her body ended in a fish's tail…”

Pacey's hand settled around her upper arm and he slowly turned her over, his hand trembling against her skin. “You know, I…”

“Shhh.” Joey reached up and pressed her fingers to his lips. “We don't need some excuse.” She let her hand slide around and settle against the nape of his neck, pulling him down to her. His breath danced over her lips as she looked up at him, so close. “We have a perfectly good reason.”

“We do?” His tongue darted out to wet his lips, barely touching hers as it swept across the surface. “What's that, exactly?”

“We're not okay, you and I. We're still in love.”

“We are?”

“And that's everything but okay. Except when it comes to this.”

“And this is what I think it is?”

“Depends.” Her free hand reached down and brushed against his erection, pressing hard to the front of his boxers. “Is this what I think it is?”

Pacey's breath caught as her hand cupped him, smoothing the material against the hot flesh. “Jo…”

“I want to make love to you, Pacey.” Her eyes were like velvet in the moonlight. “No strings, no promises. I just need to feel you again. Love you again.”

“I thought you hadn't stopped.”

“I haven't,” she assured him, her hand moving up and slipping beneath the fabric to the fevered skin below. “And now I really want to prove it.”

Pacey closed his eyes as Joey moved forward, using the hand she had wrapped around him to guide him back onto the bed. He shifted his hips, settling more securely on the mattress as she lay above him, her hand captured between their bodies.

Joey slowly moved off of him, kneeling beside his body as she grabbed the hem of her shirt and tugged it over her head. Pacey watched, entranced, as she tossed the shirt away, her skin silvery. “My God,” he whispered softly. “I'd forgotten.”

His hand was slightly rough as it touched her, callused from his summer on the boat. She moaned as his thumb brushed over one hardened nipple, bringing it to a tight peak. His other hand rested on her hip, half on the material of her pajamas and half on her bare skin. His thumb caressed her, trailing over her ribcage.

Joey's fingers curled under the waistband of his boxers, tugging gently on them. Pacey arched his hips off the bed, and she eased the material down his body, carefully guiding it over his erection. She left the boxers pooled at his knees as her hands drifted up his thighs, fingertips lightly brushing the tanned skin.

Pacey let out a low moan, his cock responding to her light touch, stiffening more, quivering as her hands neared it. Joey's smile echoed with desire as she climbed over his body, slipping off the bed and stepping out of her pajama bottoms. He watched her with a warm, liquid gaze, bathing her in it as she moved back to him, straddling him easily.

The muscles of his thighs were hard against her as she sat there, staring down at him. Her hands rested on the shallow hollow inside the curve of his hips, rubbing the smooth flesh. She spread her fingers, letting her thumbs brush the base of his erection, rustling the wiry, dark hair that crowned the base. “You'd forgotten?” Her voice was husky with longing, hunger seeming to radiate from her. “I thought you remembered everything.”

“Some things,” his hands wrapped around her hips as they had the wine glass earlier, holding them delicately yet determined as he urged her forward. Joey moved along his body, taking her time as she positioned herself above him, sliding down his shaft with an easy, measured movement. He sighed shakily. “Some things it's much better to forget.”

Joey nodded as he filled her, the velvet skin awash in the heated wet of her arousal. She settled on him and stayed there, unwilling to move for the longest time. “You never quite remember it exactly,” she whispered, reaching for his hands. Pacey gripped hers, their fingers intertwined as she used his grip for leverage as she raised up, whimpering quietly as he slid from inside her.

They stopped moving, her muscles clenched lightly around the head of his cock, holding him just inside her. She looked down at him, his face framed by their joined hands. His eyes were dark, full of emotion, full of need. With a soft sigh of satisfaction, she sank back down, letting him fill her once more.

Pacey's groan was soft and low as he reached out for her, bringing her body down against his. He guided her down to the bed, staring inter her eyes the entire time. Without speaking, he eased her away from him. Joey let him turn her over, her movements languid as she faced away from him, staring at the bare wall as his fingers crept over her hip.

His body pressed to hers, the hardness of his erection thick between her thighs as his leg pushed hers apart. Joey lifted her leg, arching it over his as he moved closer, the tip of his cock resting at her opening, parting the slick folds easily.

His hips thrust forward, and he penetrated her, his hand snaking down, slipping through the damp, silky tendrils to the hard nub of her clitoris. Joey gasped a thick, stuttering breath as Pacey moved slowly; an easy, lazy stroke filling her.

She reached back, her fingers digging into the smooth skin of his hip, her thumb rubbing the hollow at the junction of his thigh.

Pacey slipped his arm under Joey's neck, curving it across her body, grasping her shoulder. Joey whimpered softly as his lips feasted on the length of her neck, his body still moving behind hers.

Hooking her foot under Pacey's calf, Joey ground back against him. Her nails bit into his skin as her breathing changed, shattering as his fingertip raked over her clit like a shiver.

Her body clenched around him, Pacey gasped as he came, pushing deeper inside her. Joey leaned back into him, fitting their bodies together more firmly, her hips moving wildly as her body pulsed around his still thrusting cock.

Their movements finally slowed, stilling as they unwound their tangled limbs. Joey sighed deeply as she moved away, turning over to face him. His eyes were hooded, dark with satisfaction. “Sleepy?”

“A little,” his voice was thick. “You?”

She shook her head, her yawn belying it. “Well, maybe a little.”

He ran his fingers over her shoulder, down to the curve of her breast. “You should sleep.” He yawned as well, settling more comfortably on his arm.

“You too.”

“Mmm,” he nodded and shifted on the bed, gesturing for her to move closer. Joey settled on his chest, his chin resting on the top of her head. Her warm breath danced over his chest, curling around his hard nipple as her tongue flickered over it.

“Pacey?”

“Mmm?”

“Goodnight.”

His fingers ran through her hair, combing the silky strands, lulling her to sleep. “Night, Jo.”

~**~  
Bright light seemed to penetrate her eyelids, clamped shut against the morning, as Joey reached up and grabbed the cord, snapping the blinds closed and darkening the room somewhat.

“Pacey?” She said the word softly, quietly, afraid that there would be no response. Opening her eyes reluctantly, she gasped in surprise.

Sunlight filtered through the now closed blinds, raining down on what seemed to be hundreds of flowers scattered across her floor. Flowers of every color and description lay strewn between the bed and the door.

Putting her feet on the floor tenderly, Joey brushed blossoms aside to keep from crushing them. Wading to her desk, the grabbed the square, white envelope from where it was propped up against her computer screen.

“Potter – I'll be back through on my way to Capeside at Christmas. If you find yourself in the Big Apple, do yourself a favor and look me up.”

She laughed quietly, lifting one of the flowers from her desk and inhaling the soft scent.

“I love you. Sorry about the mess. – Pacey”

Dropping the note on the desk, Joey surveyed the room, a delighted smile playing across her face. She jumped, startled, as the door opened, turning to face the equally surprised girl in the doorway.

“Uh…” She consulted the card in her hand. “Josephine Potter?”

“That's me.” Joey grinned. “What else did he do?”

“He being?” The redhead asked. “I'm Muriel. Your new roommate. And this is apparently not my room so much as the campus florist?”

“Oh. Uh…” Joey blushed. “My boy…date…last night left early. He left…this in lieu of goodbye.”

“Great.” She walked over to her bed, the sheets rumpled from the short time Pacey had laid there. She gestured to the wrinkled cotton. “Is this something I can expect a lot more of?”

“I don't think so,” Joey admitted with a sigh and a smile. “Unfortunately.”

“Can I expect that you're actually going to clean this up?”

Joey continued to grin, the soft petals of the flower brushing over her cheek. “Expect it all you want,” she told her as she sank back down on her bed, recklessly tangled from their lovemaking the night before and inhaled the scent of him that permeated her senses even more than the myriad of flowers. “But it's not going to happen anytime soon.”


End file.
